


Smiling Dark Eyes

by writeyourlettersinthesand



Series: Everyone is Gay and Lives Happily Ever After Cinematic Universe [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Brian May Whump, Brian is an angel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Freddie is a soft pure baby, Gay, Hurt Brian May, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), Real People as Fictional Characters, Roger is the best friend in the world, Sick Brian May, Straight people? Never heard of them, We stan all four members of queen in this household, Whump, and Deaky is the only one who's not an absolute disaster, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates), brief mentions of homophobia, i could not be self projecting more if i tried, i wrote this instead of paying for therapy, just bros being dudes, of sorts, suuuuuper gay, this is so self indulgent, very brief tho, y'all ready for freaking snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourlettersinthesand/pseuds/writeyourlettersinthesand
Summary: I wrote this instead of paying for therapy.Brian has horrible nightmares but luckily he also has the best friends in the world. :)
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor, John Deacon & Brian May & Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Series: Everyone is Gay and Lives Happily Ever After Cinematic Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628833
Comments: 34
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure, I wrote nearly the entire work (and sequel) before I ever had any intention of sharing it, but I hope you enjoy!

Roger had never given much thought to their sleeping arrangements when they stayed in hotels. It made sense that Brian and John would bunk together, given their shared desire for peace and quiet, and Freddie and Roger’s habit of staying up talking and listening to loud music until ungodly hours of the night. Of course, in the early days, they all shared one room; often even one bed. Now that Queen was becoming rapidly more and more successful, however, they were being given very different accommodations while on tour. In fact, they’d had to talk their management out of booking individual suites for each of them, which would have been just ridiculous. They were all close, so it wasn’t immediately obvious who should room together; it just seemed to happen naturally that Roger always ended up in Freddie’s room and Brian followed John into his. It wasn’t something Roger really thought about until he walked into his and Freddie’s room one night only to find John fast asleep on his bed. 

Freddie looked up when he heard the door open, and glanced at John before turning back to Roger. “Poor dear is exhausted! He fell asleep in the middle of scrabble.”

Roger smiled affectionately. They’d had a very long day; full of interviews and press conferences right up until their concert, which was the fourth in as many nights. It had been a particularly tiring show, as well, fun as it was.

“No sense waking him, I suppose. Do you have the key to the other room?” Freddie grabbed it from the bedside table and tossed it to him. “Thanks. Night, Fred.”

Freddie smiled. “Night, Liz.”

Roger made his way down the hallway until he reached Brian’s room and unlocked it as quietly as he could. It was well after midnight and he wasn’t sure whether Brian would still be awake, but he suspected he wouldn’t.

He was right. Brian was passed out on his bed, still in his clothes, on top of the duvet, in a position that did not look comfortable at all. Roger felt a twinge of concern. It was unlike him to go to bed after a show without showering, not to mention the fact that he hadn’t even taken off his shoes. He knew that Brian had been stressed all day, but it hadn’t seemed that bad. He was good at pretending, though. 

Roger quietly walked over to Brian and removed his shoes, noting that his jeans were probably very uncomfortable to sleep in but drawing the line at stripping off his unconscious friend’s trousers. He carefully pulled the covers over Brian and tucked a pillow under his head, smiling at the thought of Brian teasing him for being so thoughtful. If he were awake, of course. He frowned when he noticed that Brian was sweating, despite the room being far cooler than Roger would prefer. He put a hand on his forehead and winced. Not because Brian was feverish; he wasn’t. He was, however, trembling, and Roger did not know what to do with that realization. His immediate thought was to wake him up, but he looked so exhausted that Roger couldn’t bring himself to do it. He clearly needed the sleep. Besides, getting enough rest had to help stress, didn’t it? After a full minute of internal debating, Roger hesitantly got into his own bed (or, technically, John’s) and tried to fall asleep himself.

Not twenty minutes later he woke up to strange sounds coming from Brian’s bed. It took him a minute to register them as soft whimpers, and his stomach turned nervously when they quickly turned into sharp, erratic breaths. 

“Brian?” Roger turned on the bedside lamp and was shocked that neither the light nor his concerned voice were enough to rouse him. He was usually an incredibly light sleeper, which was probably another reason he didn't share a room with Roger or Freddie. As Roger got closer he realized just how violently Brian was shaking now, still covered in beads of sweat. His face was twisted into a harsh frown and he was grimacing and flinching, almost as if he were being physically attacked. His muscles were so tense that it had to be painful. “Jesus, mate, what kind of a nightmare is this?” Roger slapped him on the cheek lightly, desperately wanting him to wake up and stop freaking him the hell out. When even that didn’t work, Roger started to panic a little bit. What if he was ill? What if there was something seriously wrong with him? He was considering running to get Freddie and John when Brian started letting out anguished cries, eyes still squeezed shut. Roger felt slight dread burning in his stomach. “BRIAN. Wake up, Bri, please,” Roger had no idea what kind of hellish place his mind was in but he did know he couldn’t stand seeing him like this anymore. He grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking him roughly. _“BRIAN!”_

His eyes flew open and he surged upward, nearly crashing into Roger. He gasped for air, practically hyperventilating.

“Shit, shit, are you alright?” Stupid question. Of course he wasn’t. Brian didn’t answer, still desperately struggling to breathe. “Oh, god… do you need an ambulance or something?” Brian finally looked at him, eyes full of fear. 

“Rog?” His voice broke on the single syllable. Roger’s breath caught in his throat.

“Are you ill? Or hurt?” He shook his head and Roger exhaled in relief. “Nightmare?” 

Brian continued to tremble, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “You were dead, you were all dead, and it was my fault; god, Roger, it was-” Roger cut him off by climbing the rest of the way onto the bed pulling him into his arms.

“Shh, it’s ok. Everyone is ok. Everyone is safe.” He ran his hand through Brian’s tangled mass of curls anxiously, concerned that his breathing wasn’t slowing down. Brian clung to him. “Hey, listen to me. Breathe. Everyone is fine, I promise. Nothing is wrong. You didn’t do anything.” 

Brian’s breath hitched. “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t leave, Bri, of course I won’t.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no, don’t be.” Roger pulled Brian even tighter to his chest. It was a little awkward because Brian was so much taller than him, but Roger didn’t care.

“You can go to bed, Rog, I’m ok.” 

Roger would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so worried. He pulled back so he could look at him. “I’m good right here, actually.”

Brian sighed shakily. “Thank you.”

“You’d do the same for me.” Roger didn’t doubt that for a second, and he knew Brian couldn’t argue with it. He was relieved when Brian’s breathing finally started to even out.

“What are you doing in here?” 

“A little bitch stole my bed.”

Brian’s mouth curled into a tiny smile. “How do you steal your own bed?”

Roger lightly smacked him on the arm and he laughed, easing Roger's nerves somewhat. He was hesitant to ruin the little moment of light-heartedness, but there was a thought he couldn't shake. 

“Bri?”

“Yeah?”

“Has this happened before?” 

Roger suspected he already knew the answer, and what he really wanted to ask was why he’d never told him about it. Brian hesitated, and then nodded. 

“How many times?”

“Not every night,” Brian was quick to reassure, but Roger's jaw dropped. He'd been expecting Brian to say it happened three or four times or something. Clearly this was even worse than he realized.

“Does Deaky know?”

Brian shrugged. “He's a much heavier sleeper than you.”

Roger shook his head in disbelief. “You could have woken him up! Any of us.” 

“I didn't want to bother you…” Brian mumbled weakly. 

Roger sighed heavily. He would deal with that later. “Do you want some water?”

Brian winced.

“So that's a no, then.”

“I don't think I could hold it down.”

Roger frowned. He'd never heard of nightmares so bad they could make someone throw up. “Are you sure you're alright?”

Brian's tone was unreadable. “It was just a dream.” 

That wasn't really an answer, but Roger decided not to press. Brian started to wriggle out of his grasp and rip the covers off of himself.

“What are you doing?”

Brian looked at him incredulously. “I'm so hot. Aren't you hot?”

Roger felt that nervous twist in his stomach again. “It's freezing in here.”

“Oh.” His voice was soft, almost defeated.

“If you need a doctor-”

“I don't.” Brian cut in, eyes pleading. It broke Roger's heart.

“Alright. I really think you should drink something, though.” 

Brian nodded hesitantly. Roger walked to the sink and came back with a cup of water, which Brian drank very slowly.

“Thank you.” 

“Are you hungry?”

“Can't eat. Not right now.” 

Roger could tell immediately that he wasn't going to win this fight, so he let it go. “Do you want to change?”

Brian looked down at his clothes and then walked over to his suitcase and threw on a t-shirt and joggers. Roger stayed exactly where he was and Brian sat back on the bed, looking at Roger timidly. It was obvious that he wanted to hug him again, but seemed too shy. Roger couldn’t figure out why that would be; none of them had ever had any problem being physically affectionate with each other. This wouldn’t be the first time Brian and Roger snuggled in a small bed, either, so clearly Brian was even more self-conscious than normal. 

“Do you want me to-”

“I’m sorry-”

They both spoke at the same time, catching each other off guard. Brian closed his mouth, waiting for Roger to go first.

“I was just going to- wait, what are you sorry for?”

Brian stared at him in confusion for a minute. “Waking you up. Keeping you up.”

Roger rolled his eyes. “I’m a grown man, Brian. I can do whatever the hell I want, and I want to help. How do I help?”

Roger could see the pure relief and gratitude in Brian’s eyes. “You did. You are.”

“Good. And drop that guilty face, will ya?” 

Brian gazed at him miserably. Roger thought, not for the first time, that he could not imagine what it must be like to be trapped inside his mind. 

“I dunno what’s going on in that head of yours, but don’t listen to it.”

Brian half smiled. “I just…” He trailed off, and Roger looked at him expectantly. “I feel like I don’t deserve it. Your help.” 

Roger ran a hand through his own messy hair. “Jesus. First if all, bullshit, but think of it this way. Maybe I’m doing it for myself. Maybe I just don’t want to see someone I love suffering alone.”

Brian’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “And I don’t want to see someone I love losing sleep over me.”

Roger grinned. “Well, I guess we’re at a stalemate, then, and you know damn well I’m more stubborn than you.”

Brian laughed softly, and they stared at each other for a long moment. They’d never exactly been conservative with their use of the “L” word; Freddie in particular had a knack for sliding it into nearly every conversation. Sometimes, though, it felt like Roger and Brian were tip-toeing into something else. Something unspoken, that they both knew about but never said out loud. It had been around forever. For years. But they never talked about it, at least not with each other. They didn’t want to ruin what they had; with each other and with the band. Surely they shouldn’t risk it.

“Could I have another hug?” Brian’s small voice shook Roger out of his thoughts. 

“Of course, you don’t have to ask.” Roger was about to open his arms to pull him in, but Brian beat him to it and pulled Roger to his chest instead. Roger couldn’t help but notice how well their bodies fit together this way. Maybe the height difference wasn’t such a bad thing. He opened his mouth to say something, preferably either funny or comforting, but all that came out was, “You’re so tall.”

Brian giggled for a minute, but his laughter quickly turned into soft, broken sobs, scaring the hell out of Roger once again. He wasn’t used to seeing Brian like this and it felt completely, undeniably _wrong_. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re alright. I’m here, ok? Bri?”

It took a minute for Brian to regain enough control of his breathing to speak. “I don’t want you to die.” It hit Roger like a punch in the stomach. He was no stranger to nightmares, but bloody hell… clearly this was more traumatic than any dream he’d ever had. The worst thing was that he couldn’t even comfort him. It wasn’t like he could reassure Brian that he would never die. He just rubbed Brian’s back a little helplessly until he continued, “There was a truck. I didn't swerve in time… there was so much blood, Roger, god. I tried to stop it, but you… all three of you… I wanted to- It should have been me. It was my fault… the papers said… they said I _killed_ you. Fuck, Rog, I can’t breathe-”

Roger had never seen Brian this broken up about anything. Brian was the calm one, the rational one. Seeing him like this, completely undone; Roger didn’t know what to do. “Oh my god, Brian, I’m so sorry. That’s… Brian, of course it wouldn’t be your fault. That could never be your fault. Nothing like that is going to happen. Even if it did, no one would blame you.” Roger was newly terrified at Brian’s implication that he’d wanted to die. It was just a dream, but still, he didn’t know if anything scared him more than that. He spoke again, a bit frantically this time. “Promise me, Bri, if something happened, you wouldn't… do anything.”

“Rog-”

“ _Promise me_.” Roger pulled back and forced Brian to look him in the eye. The sheer heartbreak in Brian’s expression brought on a fierce rush of protectiveness that Roger could barely contain.

“I promise.” 

Roger felt a tear running down his own cheek. “Good. I’m not going anywhere.” He wiped away some of the tears from Brian’s face before leaning into the hug again. Brian wrapped his arms around him tightly.

“Fred and Deaks are ok? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I just came from there.”

“Ok.” There was a long pause. “You sounded great, by the way. At the show, I mean.”

Roger laughed. He didn’t know if Brian was desperately trying to change the subject or if he really was this scattered at the moment, but either way he was relieved by the shift. “Thanks, you too. Don’t get me started on how you looked.” Roger couldn’t see him, but suspected his face was flushing a deep red. Before Brian could respond, Roger asked, “Are you still hot?” 

In hindsight, he probably should have been more specific given his previous statement, but Brian knew what he meant. “No, I’m cooling off now.”

Roger smiled. “Good. Can I stay in your bed tonight?”

Brian pulled back from him, eyes wide. “Really?”

Roger huffed. “You don’t have to look so surprised.” 

“Roger-”

“You always take care of us. Let me take care of you for a change.”

Brian stared at him in astonishment. “You really want to be in bed with me while I’m all sweaty and gross?”

Roger resisted every urge to make an inappropriate comment. “Only if you want to. I don’t know if it would help you sleep or not.”

“Yes. Yes, thank you so much.” Brian’s eyes lit up, and Roger smiled, a warm feeling spreading through his entire body. They laid down, Roger moving back into Brian’s arms, and laid comfortably like that for a while before Brian mumbled, “I knew you were the little spoon.”

Roger snorted. “It’s not my fault you’re twelve feet tall.”

Brian laughed softly, chin resting on Roger’s head. He moved his hand to Roger’s hair absentmindedly and finally started to relax into the bed. It didn’t take Roger long to fall asleep, and his steady breathing and constant touch calmed Brian immensely. Brian was awake for a while longer, gently playing with Roger’s hair and trying to sync up their breathing, and his last coherent thought before falling asleep was that he could really get used to this feeling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short, but I think I'm going to go ahead and upload chapter 3 right away as well. Hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for reading!

“Deaky, can you start rooming with Fred?” 

Freddie and John both looked up, confused by the sudden, unexpected question. Roger realized belatedly that he probably shouldn’t have barged into their room with no context and blurted that out without even saying good morning, but it was too late now.

John squinted at him. “Am I being punished for something?” 

Roger laughed when Freddie gasped dramatically in mock offense. “Darling, you wound me. Besides, it’s obvious, isn’t it? They’ve finally realized they’re in love.”

“I thought that happened years ago,” John deadpanned, and Roger rolled his eyes.

“Well? What do you think?”

John and Freddie shared a look that Roger couldn’t quite decipher, and it was Freddie who answered, “Yes, dear, I think we can do that.”

“Great!” Roger bounded off into the hallway, leaving the other two smiling in amusement.

“It’s finally happened, hasn’t it?” Freddie asked, grinning.

John got up, moving to the hotel’s kitchenette to make some tea. He yawned. “It’s about damn time.”

~~~~

By the time Roger got back to their room, Brian was out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. He smiled softly. “Hey.”

Roger smiled back at him. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Brian answered, oozing sincerity. “Thank you so much for last night.”

“Good, and you’re welcome. Want to go get breakfast? We have to be out of here soon.”

Brian followed him out into the hallway, stopping at Freddie and John’s door. “Hang on a minute.” Roger paused as Brian knocked. John opened the door, looking a little irritated.

“I told you, we don’t need- oh, hey, Brian. I thought you were the maid.”

Roger laughed. “It’s the hair.”

Brian was looking at John like they'd been apart for weeks, and John looked appropriately confused. Roger knew exactly why Brian had stopped, though, and before John could ask, Brian pulled him into a hug. 

John shot Roger a questioning glance as he hugged him back a little tentatively. “Uh, Brian…”

“Is Freddie here?” 

John blinked up at him. “Yeah, he’s- _Freddie, get in here._ ”

Freddie walked out of the bathroom wearing only boxers and looking equally bewildered. Brian ran over to him and pulled him into a hug as well, which Freddie immediately returned. “Are you alright, love?”

“Yeah, I just… Sorry, I had a bad dream.”

Roger thought that was an extremely mild way of putting it, but still John’s perplexed frown softened and Freddie hugged him a little tighter.

“Well, whatever it was, it wasn’t real. Let’s get some food, shall we?”

“Meet us down there after you put on some clothes,” Brian responded.

“What, and deprive this hotel’s lovely patrons of-”

“Fred!” John warned, and Freddie laughed.

“Fine, we’ll meet you. Deaky, be a dear and help me finish packing?” 

John closed the door, grumbling under his breath. 

Roger and Brian looked at each other, laughing, and continued to the lift. Once they got to the dining area, Roger was pleasantly surprised by how much food Brian got for himself. He hoped that was a good sign. They carefully scoped out the room and, after finding it empty except for the hotel staff, sat across from each other at a small table and chatted as they waited for Freddie and John to join them.

“So.”

Brian looked up from his bowl of fruit, waiting for Roger to continue. 

“I want to start sharing a room. You know, when we're on tour.”

Brian blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Is… Is that ok with you?” Roger asked, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous.

Brian eyed him warily. “Rog, you won't sleep.” 

He scoffed, relieved that was what Brian was worried about. “Last night I fell asleep earlier than I normally do!”

Brian laughed. “Bloody hell. What do you and Freddie do all night?” Roger raised an eyebrow. “You know what, forget I asked. I would love that, Roger, really, I just don't want you to have to deal with this all the time.”

“Deal with what?”

Brian shifted uncomfortably. “Y’know… Me, I suppose.”

Roger frowned. “Well, maybe I want to! You're a good cuddler.”

Brian blushed furiously. “Rog-”

Roger didn't let him finish. “So? You'll do it?”

He could tell from Brian’s eyes how much he wanted it, but he was clearly having some sort of internal battle. Finally, he gave in and said, “Alright, if you want to give it a try...”

Roger’s face lit up. He flashed Brian a smile he couldn't help but return, and Roger returned his attention to his plate of bacon. 

Brian didn’t notice Freddie and John entering the room until they pulled up chairs with their plates of food and Freddie dramatically announced, “Roggie, that is simply appalling.”

Roger frowned, mouth still full. “Hm?”

“Your breakfast, darling.”

“What? It’s protein! Protein is healthy. Back me up, Bri.”

Brian stared at him like he was crazy. “Seriously? You think _I’m_ going to defend that?” 

Roger sighed. “Deaky, help me out.” John just rolled his eyes and continued buttering his toast. Roger shrugged. “ _Anyway,_ who cares about food? We finally have a day off! What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to sit in the bus for seven hours.”

Roger sighed in exasperation. “Yes, thank you, John. That was very helpful.”

“Don’t _John_ me-”

“Children, please.” Freddie interrupted. “No fighting until I’ve finished my tea. Rog, are you packed?” 

“N- Wait, why did you only ask me?” 

“I watched Deaky do it, and Brian never unpacks in the first place. Besides, the day you're ready before him is the day that Armageddon begins.”

John chuckled and Roger shrugged noncommittally. “Brian will help me.”

Brian scoffed. “And why’s that?”

“Because,” Roger grinned, “Organizing things is like crack to you.”

“You want me to organize it, too? I haven't got all day!”

Freddie laughed. “Speaking of, Bri, how are we doing on time?”

Brian checked his watch. “We should be on the road in thirty minutes.”

“Well, you two better hop to it then!”

Roger grabbed Brian's hand and pulled him into the hallway as the latter complained but didn't really attempt to resist. Freddie and John shared a knowing look, laughed, and continued eating.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ups the angst, but there is still plenty of fluff to come! Also, I always feel a bit weird writing about real people, but I guess it helps if I imagine this version of them as fictional characters, if that makes sense.

It had been nearly eight long hours full of writing, Scrabble, and bickering before they made it to their next hotel. John almost followed Brian into one of the rooms out of habit before remembering their new arrangement and slipping in with Freddie instead. Once again, Brian and Roger were alone. Roger watched nervously as Brian barely touched his dinner, despite the fact that he seemed to have been doing better all day.

“Alright, Brimi?”

Brian smiled at the old nickname. “I don't have much of an appetite, that's all.”

Roger frowned. “Have you eaten since breakfast?” Brian didn't respond, and Roger sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

Brian looked nervous. “Of course, anything.”

Roger cleared his throat. “Last night, you said you felt like you didn't deserve my help.” Brian winced, but Roger pushed forward. “Why would you think that?”

Brian looked at him anxiously, sadly, for a minute before responding. “It's stupid.” 

“If it's keeping you up at night, it's not.” 

Brian sighed. “I suppose it's been ever since I was sick for so long. I thought you all would move on… Decide I'm more trouble than I'm worth. I guess I still can't shake that.”

“Remember what I said when you were sick?” 

Brian smiled softly. “You said, _‘We’re not going to bloody replace you, you dumb fucking idiot’_ , in those exact words.”

“Exactly, and I stand by it. You're incredible, Brian. I can't believe you don't know that. Besides, no one else would put up with us.”

“Well, that's true.” Brian was a little taken aback by the intensity of Roger’s compliment and didn't quite know how to take it. “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it.” 

Roger knew Brian had struggled with this in the past, but he hated that it still affected him. Everything Brian did for them, and he still didn't think he deserved them. It was completely unfair. Roger had to push down his anger at the way Brian's mind tormented him even still. Usually Roger did whatever he could to avoid thinking about those memories from when Brian had been so ill; he’d been absolutely terrified out of his mind. He hadn’t told Brian this, but the day he collapsed backstage was one of the worst days of Roger’s life.

“Rog, I-”

“Listen, May, if you apologize one more time, I will tickle you.” 

Brian laughed. “I wasn't going to, but I'll keep that in mind.”

“Oh. What were you saying, then?”

“I don't know what I would do without you.”

Roger was speechless for a second. He hadn't been expecting that. “Well, I don't know what I would do without you either. Good thing we don't have to find out.”

Brian smiled, fidgeting nervously, and Roger frowned. “Are you stressed?”

“Yeah.”

“About what?” 

Brian looked almost embarrassed. “I, uh… I don't really want to go back to sleep.”

“I'd be surprised if you did!”

Brian seemed a little relieved by that response. “Sometimes I just… don’t,” he admitted sheepishly. 

Roger's eyes widened. “What, don’t sleep? At all?” 

Brian shrugged. “It’s easier, I guess.”

“You’ll make yourself sick!”

Brian shifted uncomfortably. “I know. I’m trying to work on it.”

“Well, you have me now. And you don’t have to keep anything from me.”

Brian half smiled. “I’m working on that too.”

“Would it help if I told you some of my secrets?” Roger asked, hoping he could take Brian’s mind off things for a bit. Maybe a nice distraction was what he needed.

Brian laughed softly. “I don’t know, but I’m certainly curious now.” 

“Hmm… well, I’ve always been afraid of the dark,” Roger offered.

“That’s understandable. Although, what is darkness, really? Does it even exist? Or is it the absence of light that-”

Roger cut him off by tickling him mercilessly, and Brian burst into a fit of giggles as he desperately tried to get away until Roger finally relented and let him catch his breath.

“What was that for? I didn’t apologize!” Brian was still laughing, covering his stomach with his arms.

“You were about to start talking about space, I could tell.” Brain huffed out another breathless laugh. Roger grinned. “Alright, now it’s your turn to tell me something.”

Brian thought for a long moment. “I was jealous of you when we first met.”

“What? Why?”

“You were always so charming and talented. Everybody liked you. And, you know, your looks.”

Roger’s eyes were huge. “Really?”

Brian cocked his head slightly to the side. “Are you surprised?”

“Yeah, I mean… I dunno. I suppose I didn’t care all that much what other people thought. I was really just trying to impress you.” Roger responded, a little intrigued by the direction the conversation was heading.

“Well, you definitely did that.” 

Roger didn’t know if Brian was blushing again or if he was imagining things. He cleared his throat. “Alright, um, I once had a dream that I was pregnant with triplets.”

Brian laughed. “Whose were they?”

“I have no idea,” Roger lied. “Your turn.”

Brian ran a hand through his hair, expression serious again. “I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep in weeks.”

Roger’s heart sank, excited curiosity forgotten. “You don’t think you’re sick, though?” God, the last thing Roger would ever want was for Brian to be sick again, but this couldn’t be normal.

“I don’t think so. Not physically.”

“Does anything ever help?”

“You do.”

Roger couldn’t help but be flattered by that, and he was also glad Brian said it without apologizing or including some kind of disclaimer that Roger didn't have to do anything in the future. “Good. want to watch some telly?”

Brian smiled. “Sure.”

This time Roger climbed right into Brian’s bed without asking, and Brian didn’t protest; instead just comfortably putting an arm around him and sitting like that until he fell asleep.

~~~~

Roger was disappointed but not surprised when Brian started to stir, maybe an hour or so after dozing off. Roger hadn’t slept yet; he wasn’t nearly tired enough. He could feel Brian shaking again, and his face was covered in a sheen of sweat. He was still sitting up, leaning back against the headboard with his arm draped over Roger. 

“Dammit. Bri, wake up.” 

He didn't. 

Roger sighed, speaking louder. “Brian, come on.” 

Radio silence. 

Roger ducked under his arm and moved to face him, but when he grabbed his shoulders to shake them like he had last time, Brian cried out and flinched violently like he'd been hit. Roger removed his hands immediately. “Shit, Brian, what's happening?” His breathing became far too fast, coming in short, sharp gasps. His eyelids fluttered wildly, and the sounds he started making were undeniably ones of pain. Roger was getting that panicked feeling again; desperately wanting to wake him but scared to touch him now. Had he been this hard to wake up last time? Roger tugged at his own hair helplessly. “Please wake up and tell me what to do.” 

His breathing became shallow; far too shallow. Shallow enough that he could not possibly be pulling in enough air.

It was then that Roger fully panicked. He sprinted out into the hallway, regretting every moment that he left Brian alone. He pounded on John and Freddie's door and it took an agonizingly long time for John to open it, looking disheveled. He became completely alert the moment he saw Roger's face, however, and his eyes widened.

“What happened?”

“I can't wake him up. His breathing is really weird, Deaks, I don't know what to do-”

“Roger! What _happened?!”_

“Brian won't wake up! He’s having some kind of crazy, fucked-up nightmare and he won't wake up!”

John was already halfway out the door, with a terrified Freddie following close behind. They burst back into Brian's room, and Freddie gasped at the state he was in; all twisted up in the bedsheets, face contorted in pain, and breathing barely audible anymore.

John paled. “Brian? Brian.” He ran over to him and grabbed his arms, but he flinched back exactly the same way he did with Roger, whimpering weakly. Suddenly, he quieted, and all the remaining color drained from John’s face.

“What? What is it?” Roger asked desperately, feeling like he was going to be sick.

“I don’t think he’s breathing-”

“WHAT?!” Freddie stared with huge, terror-filled eyes. Roger was frozen in place, unable to move or speak or do anything useful; only stare at Brian’s limp form. The dread that overwhelmed him was physically painful. He couldn't handle the weight of it, and grabbed Freddie's arm to brace himself. John felt for a pulse, and his entire body sagged with relief when he found it. Roger finally snapped out of it and ran up to Brian, gently putting a hand on his face, and this time he got no reaction at all. It was somehow worse. Freddie was nearly hysterical. “What the fuck is wrong with him?! What do we _do?!”_

“Freddie, calm down. Rog, get me some water. If this doesn't wake him, call 999.” John barked out instructions as calmly as he could, and Roger obeyed immediately. John grabbed the cup from him and looked at Brian apologetically. “Sorry for this.” He splashed some water on Brian's face, wincing even as he did it.

He woke up abruptly, gasping and sputtering, and jerked forward again, eyes wide and absolutely terrified. He wheezed, frantically pulling in the much-needed air, and looked at John in dazed confusion. Freddie just stood there in shock as Roger stumbled backwards, covering his face with his hands. John exhaled in relief and Brian stared at him in pure, gut-wrenching horror. “Is- is Rog-”

Roger moved into his field of vision and the relief poured off of Brian in waves. Roger practically threw himself onto Brian and wrapped his arms around him, and Brian buried his face in his hair. 

“Brian.” 

He pulled away from Roger and turned to John. 

John looked him up and down. “Are you alright?”

Brian nodded. Freddie climbed onto the bed, gently cupping Brian’s face in his hands and examining him. Brian smiled a bit sadly, still breathing heavily. “I'm ok, Freddie.” 

Freddie pulled him into a hug of his own. “Is this what you meant by _bad dream?_ ” 

Brian shrugged, and John frowned deeply. “That's not a dream, Bri, that's a night terror.”

Brian pulled Roger back into his arms the second Freddie released him. Roger’s eyes brimmed with tears. 

“How long has this been going on?” John asked, already dreading the answer. 

Brian took a deep breath. “Long time.” When he saw the expression of guilt on John’s face, be backpedaled, “No, no, please don't do that. It's my fault for not telling you.”

“Why _didn't_ you tell us?” Freddie asked, voice wavering.

“I didn't think it was that bad. Nothing worth bothering you over.”

Freddie looked horrified. “If you think for one second-” He stopped when Brian winced slightly at the sharpness of his voice. “...I'm sorry. We can talk about this later, when you're feeling better. Right now you should rest.” Brian smiled at him tiredly. 

“Brian?” John's voice was as gentle as Brian had ever heard it. He looked over at him again, waiting for him to continue. “I'm going to drive you to the hospital, ok? Just in case.” Brian tensed, but he didn't argue, knowing John wasn't one to dramatize situations like Freddie and Roger did. If John thought he needed a doctor, he probably needed a doctor.

He let the others fuss over him as they made their way outside. John decided to call a cab instead, figuring it would be harder to be inconspicuous in their tour bus. Not to mention, he’d never actually driven it before, and they didn't see any point in waking their driver. Roger didn't let go of Brian for the entire ride there, and Brian sat silently, dreading another visit to a hospital. John was in the front seat, making sure the driver took them to the nearest emergency room, and constantly glancing back at the other three. Brian laid his head on Freddie’s shoulder, trying not to fall asleep, even though he knew he wouldn't, and tried to distract himself from the panic brewing in his stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up y'all, it's about to get GAY!
> 
> (Brief mentions of homophobia but only in a dream)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :)

Obstructive sleep apnea. That's what the doctor said. Also dehydration and exhaustion, but the core issue was sleep apnea, which was what caused the intense nightmares. Stress definitely had a role in those as well. Roger was not proud of how he handled learning the fact that Brian had a condition which frequently caused him to _stop breathing in his sleep,_ but how was anyone supposed to react calmly to that?! Apparently people with sleep apnea usually snored (Brian didn't) or were overweight (Brian was quite the opposite), so it was a bit of a surprising diagnosis. Brian, for his part, didn't seem all that surprised. Although, to be fair, most of his available energy was being spent on trying to calm his anxiety about being inside a hospital again. Freddie took it upon himself to calm Roger down, although he himself wasn't much better. John, ever the practical one, immediately asked about treatment, and the doctor prescribed a medication that would hopefully help him sleep more and improve the quality of whatever sleep he did get. At the very least it should help him feel less fatigued during the day. He also needed to avoid sleeping on his back. If it got worse, he'd need to come back for more testing, and possibly start sleeping with a special oxygen mask. Freddie had been a little distraught at the thought of it getting _worse_ , but the doctor didn't seem too worried. She also told Brian that he wasn't eating nearly enough, which didn't surprise any of them. None of this did much to calm their nerves, honestly, but at least they had a name for what was going on. It could certainly be a lot worse; at least that's what Brian kept trying to tell Roger the whole way back to the hotel. 

“It's really not dangerous if it's treated, Rog. That's what the doctor said.” Brian reminded, pointedly ignoring the part where it very easily could have become dangerous had his friends not accidentally found out about it. Guilt was eating away at him again, but he sincerely hadn't realized how bad it was. The worst of it happened in his sleep, after all.

“Maybe not, but it's fucking terrifying,” Roger shot back, and Freddie nodded in agreement. 

“Roger-”

“You weren’t breathing!”

Brian felt another pang of guilt imagining what the others had gone through. He would do anything to take the worry away from them. “I would have woken up.”

Freddie frowned. “Still…”

John glanced back. “You two need to relax. He’ll be fine.”

Brian smiled at him gratefully. He thought back to the doctor asking about his sleeping arrangements, to which Roger immediately responded that Brian would never be sleeping alone. Quite enthusiastically, too, but thankfully the doctor had been gracious enough to keep any comments to herself. A faint smile tugged at his lips. Brian didn't notice he was staring off into space until Roger waved a hand in front of him to get his attention. 

“What are you thinking about?” Roger’s bright blue eyes looked like they were trying to stare into his soul. 

Brian felt a rush of fondness and gratitude for all of them. “I love you guys.” 

They all smiled and John responded first. “We love you too. Sorry you had to be in a hospital.”

Freddie's eyes widened. “I hadn't even thought about that! Oh, dear, that must have been awful.” 

“It's alright. I shouldn't have put it off for so long. I'm sorry I never said anything.” 

Roger squeezed his hand. “I'm just glad we know now.”

They were quiet for the rest of the ride to the hotel. The driver said nothing the entire time. Roger didn't let go of Brian's hand and Freddie was sitting much closer to him than strictly necessary. Even John, with his intense calm, had undeniable concern written all over his face. Despite all that, Brian did fall asleep this time, falling against Freddie with his hand still in Roger’s.

~~~~

The snowstorm hit out of nowhere. The good news was, that meant their next show had to be rescheduled, so they could get some rest. The bad news, though, was that they were essentially trapped in their hotel for the time being. Actually, according to Freddie, this should also be characterized as good news. ( _“What an adventure! We can build a fort and watch movies and order room service! A perfect slumber party!”_ )

John looked like he was trying to appear annoyed but couldn't quite pull it off. Roger was fuming, not about the show being cancelled, but about the fact that they couldn't get to the pharmacy for Brian's medication. Brian did everything he could to calm Roger down while he cursed out the very concept of unpredictable weather.

“Roger, it's fine. I promise, it's fine. Besides, there's nothing we can do right now, alright? Being angry won't help.” He reasoned, trying to de-escalate.

Roger sighed in defeat. “I just don't want you to have another bad night.”

“Even if I do, It's ok, really.”

Roger frowned, and the sadness in his eyes made Brian's heart ache. 

“Are you alright?”

Roger laughed. “Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Brian smiled but continued staring at him, expression full of concern.

Freddie shot John a look. “Deaky, darling, let's go get some more blankets from the other room, yeah?” They walked out, leaving the other two standing silently for a minute.

“Bri?” 

“Yes?” 

“You don't have to talk about the dream, but-” Roger stopped when Brian tensed, but he gestured for him to keep going. “I tried to wake you up and you reacted like you were scared or hurt or something.” Roger paused to take a deep breath and Brian frowned with worry, noting the slight waver in his voice. “You're not… I wasn't doing… I mean, in the dream, you weren't afraid of me, were you?” Roger looked absolutely wrecked.

Brian's jaw dropped. “No, Rog, god no, never. I had no idea you were thinking that, I'm so sorry.” 

Roger exhaled in relief. “It's just, when you woke up, you said my name and you sounded so scared...” 

Brian shook his head vehemently. “We were attacked. Both of us, on the street. They were hitting and kicking and I thought you were-” Brian cut himself off and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Sorry.”

“Don't be. What was it, deranged fans?”

Brian’s anxiety spiked. “Not exactly…”

He hesitated and Roger wondered what it was that he seemed so nervous to tell him. “You can talk to me about anything, remember?”

“I know, I just… I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. “I can handle it.” 

Brian took a deep breath. “We were together, walking.” 

“Yeah?” Roger looked at him, waiting for more. 

Brian fidgeted, refusing to make eye contact. “No, Rog, we were _together_.”

Roger's eyes widened. “Oh! Oh.” He stared at Brian in wonder, having a hard time fully registering what he was saying.

Brian looked positively nauseous. “I shouldn't have said anything; I'm so sorry. I promise nothing has to change, ok? It was just a dream. You don't have to leave. Please don't leave.” He was talking way too fast, voice desperate.

Roger snapped out of his daze. “Brian! It’s ok. I'm not upset. I'm not uncomfortable. And I’ll never leave; you're stuck with me.” 

Brian took a shaky breath, looking near tears as he nodded. Roger felt another rush of fierce protectiveness.

“We were attacked because of that?”

Brian squeezed his eyes shut again. “It was my fault.”

Roger frowned. “I have a hard time believing-”

“I grabbed your hand. I wasn't thinking. I didn't realize people were watching.” Brian’s eyes were absolutely drowning in guilt and fear.

Roger’s face flushed with anger. “That's not on you, Bri, that's their fault for being such filthy fucking bigots.” Roger had to remind himself this had only been a dream, because he was ready to _kill_ anyone who would dare lay a hand on Brian.

Brian smiled anxiously. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

“So, is that what you want?”

“What?”

Roger steeled himself, stomach turning, and kept going before he could talk himself out of it. “You know, to be together?” 

Brian stared at him in stunned disbelief for so long that Roger almost wished he could take it back. Finally, he stuttered, “I… Rog, I don't- I mean… I've thought about it, but I would never expect- I didn't think you-"

Roger said nothing, but cut Brian off by closing the distance between them and pulling him into the gentlest kiss he could muster. Brian's eyes widened in shock before he eventually closed them, sinking into the embrace as he instinctively brought his hands to Roger’s hair. Roger was on his tip-toes, cupping Brian's face in his hands. Eventually they pulled away, out of breath, and just stood there, trying to process what just happened. Brian's eyes were so warm and loving that Roger just fell to his chest, wrapping his arms around him. Brian returned his hug, rubbing a hand up and down his back. 

Roger took a deep breath. “Was that ok?”

Brian huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, that was great.” 

“Thank god. I've wanted to do that for years.” 

Brian felt the happiest he had in a long time, like a massive weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. “Me too.”

The doorknob turned suddenly and they jumped out of each other's arms, startled and flustered. Roger frantically tried to smooth down his hair. 

“Alright, my lovies, it's time to- what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Freddie stared at them suspiciously. 

“Nothing, uh, we just…” Brian stuttered helplessly. 

John set his pile of blankets down on the bed and crossed his arms. “Alright, you two. Spill.”

Roger glanced at Brian, and Brian nodded, silently giving him permission. Roger cleared his throat. “What would you think if Brian and I-”

Freddie's eyes lit up with excitement. “Shagged?”

“ _Dated,_ Freddie. Dated. Jesus.” Roger shook his head in exasperation and Brian looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole. 

John decided to step in before Freddie could say anything else. “We knew it would happen eventually. I can't believe it took this long.”

They both stared at him in utter disbelief until Brian found his voice again. “But it won't, you know… create issues with the band or anything?” 

Freddie had a mischievous glint in his eye. “If it will, I'm afraid we already have a problem.” He glanced at John, who suddenly looked incredibly shy.

Brian’s lips parted slightly in surprise. “Wait, really?”

Freddie rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Brian, my dear, for someone so bright, you're awfully daft.” 

Brian looked like he wasn't sure whether to be flattered or offended. Roger laughed. 

“Well, I guess everything is fine then.” 

John smiled timidly. “I guess it is.” 

Roger silently grabbed Brian's hand. Freddie smiled at each of them in turn before returning his attention to the pile of blankets and pillows on the bed. “Well, this fort isn't going to build itself!”

John raised an eyebrow and gestured to Brian and Roger. “You sure we shouldn't leave these two alone?”

“Deaky!” Brian's face flushed even redder and John threw his hands up defensively. 

“Alright, just checking. Roger, I do have to ask, is this why you wanted to change rooms?” 

Now it was Roger’s turn to blush. “It wasn't the only reason.” 

Brian smiled shyly. Roger gazed at him. John just looked at them both in amusement, and Freddie let out an annoyed huff, picking up all the blankets by himself.

“I have to do everything around here.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for this one, but there's a sequel to come! :)
> 
> Just pure fluff this chapter. So, so much fluff.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“Rog?” Brian spoke very quietly to avoid waking Freddie and John.

“Yeah?” 

Brian paused, choosing his words carefully. “I want to do this, but-”

Roger pulled away from him slightly, looking worried.

“It's ok, nothing's wrong, I just need you to understand that it's not your job to take care of me.” 

Roger laid back down and relaxed again. “Sorry if I'm smothering.” 

“You’re not! Nothing like that. It's just, you can't put that kind of pressure on yourself. I don't want you to put that pressure on yourself. I want us to help each other, obviously, but you're not responsible for making sure I'm ok. Do you know what I mean? If I'm keeping you up, you should make me sleep in a different room. That sort of thing.” 

Roger frowned. “That's hard.”

Brian smiled slightly. “I know. It'll be hard for me too when you're hurting and I can't fix it. But it's not my job to fix it, and it's not your job to fix my problems. We can be there for each other. That's enough. And if things I'm dealing with are hard on you, please tell me, ok?”

Roger felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “It reminds me of when you were sick.” 

Brian gazed at him sympathetically. “I thought it might.” 

“When you wouldn't wake up, I was just back to that day backstage. It was... It was horrible. Suddenly you were on the ground, and we had no idea what the hell was going on; if you were ok. If you'd even live. I've never recovered from that, Brimi, and now again, finding you completely unresponsive last night...” 

“I can't imagine.”

“And then everyone is just acting like everything is ok and building pillow forts and screwing around, and… I don't know.” 

Brian brushed Roger's messy hair out of his face. “I wasn't ok back then. It was really bad, I know that. I don't expect you to just get over it. I haven't. But this isn't like that, Rog. I'm not in danger. This is… difficult, and I'm sorry you have to see it at all, but I'm ok. I'm not just saying that. I really am ok. It reminds me of last time too, but this is nothing like that, really.”

Roger was fully crying now, albeit quietly. “I was so scared, Bri.”

Brian ran his fingers through Roger’s hair with one hand and wiped the tears from his face with the other, speaking barely above a whisper. “I know. It's going to be ok.” 

Roger clung to Brian like he could not possibly get close enough to him. “Sorry.”

Brian smirked. “Now who has an apologizing problem?” Roger snorted, the sound muffled by Brian's shirt. “You don't have to apologize for how you feel. Not ever.” He gently kissed Roger on the top of his head.

Roger nodded. “Thank you. For all of that.”

“Always. How about this. I’ll try to stop telling myself that I don't deserve you, and you try to stop telling yourself that my health and happiness are your responsibility.” 

Roger laughed softly. “That sounds fair. You do deserve me, though. No offense.”

Brian laughed, quickly covering his mouth when it came out louder than he intended. “Stop being charming. I'm going to wake up the lovebirds over there.”

Roger grinned. “You think I can just turn off this charm? Besides, you could hire a mariachi band to play on top of their faces and they still wouldn't wake up.”

“That’s a… disturbing visual.” 

“Well, I got my point across, didn't I?” Roger flashed him a smug smile. Brian rolled his eyes, falling a little bit more in love with that smile every time he saw it. Roger hummed peacefully and mumbled, almost absentmindedly, “I wouldn't change a thing about you.”

Brian stared at him for a second and then kissed him again. He almost couldn't believe that, but Roger was so sincere, so open; he didn't really have a choice. “Thank you. Thank you, really. That means everything to me. I wouldn't change anything about you either. You're perfect as you are.” 

Roger smirked. “Even my height?”

Brian smiled. “Are you kidding? You're the optimum height for snuggling!” 

Roger rolled his eyes. “We need to stop. This is getting gross.”

“I agree.”

John's voice nearly made them jump right out of their skin.

“What the hell, Deaky? How long have you been awake?” Roger demanded, looking mortified.

“Just a second, but it was far _too_ long, I'll tell you that.” John kindly ignored the tear tracks on Roger’s face.

Roger closed his eyes. “Really? So you pick now to become a light sleeper?” 

John laughed. “It’s not my fault Freddie made us sleep in a blanket tent on the floor. I'm not sure I was totally asleep, honestly, but that's not the point. Roger is right. You two are gross.”

Brian chuckled. “You can't tell me you and Fred aren’t the exact same way.”

John shrugged. “He is. I'm not. You know him, though; all I have to do is tell him he looks nice and he nearly has an aneurysm.”

Brian laughed fondly. “We should get some sleep.”

John turned back to Freddie, who was sleeping soundly, and Roger snuggled up to Brian. 

~~~~

“Fuck you, blondie, _hydroxy_ is not a word,” Freddie complained.

Brian laughed. It was maybe 3 or 4 in the morning, and none of them cared. They couldn't leave their hotel anyway. They'd been playing Scrabble for about an hour and, although Brian was winning, Roger was far enough ahead of Freddie for him to be pissed about it. 

“Yes it is, you wanker,” Roger replied dryly.

John sat up. “Alright, you know the drill. Brian? Is it a word?”

They all turned to Brian expectantly, and he rolled his eyes. “How do you know I haven't just been making shit up every time we play?”

Freddie smirked. “You're not capable. The guilt would eat you alive. Plus, the scientist in you could never.”

That was true. “Well, I hate to disagree with you-”

“Oh, please. You love to disagree with me,” Freddie scoffed. 

“-but, as a scientist, I can confirm that it is indeed a word.”

Roger whooped in celebration and Freddie scowled. 

“Bias! This is a conflict of interest. You can't be trusted because you're smitten for one of the players.”

Brian laughed. “Oh, trust me, I definitely want him to lose.” 

Roger shoved him. “Oi!”

“Define it, then.” John insisted.

Roger looked at him a bit skeptically, but Brian immediately replied, “It’s a biology term, of course Roger would know it. It’s to do with chemical bonds. Carbon and oxygen, I think. Am I right, Rog?”

Roger stared at him in a combination of surprise and adoration. “Yep, that's it.” 

Freddie sighed. “Alright, fine, I'll give you the points, but only if we don't talk about science for the rest of the night. It's giving me a rash.”

“And, Roger, you need to either calm down with the longing looks or get a room,” John added. 

“We have a room.”

“Use it.” 

Roger flipped him off. 

“Or,” Freddie said, bringing a hand to John's face suggestively, “We could give them a taste of their own-”

Roger held his hands up in surrender. “Ok, ok, I'll stop.” 

John swatted Freddie's hand away, but he couldn't quite hide his smile.

Brian cleared his throat. “Um, Freddie, your turn.” 

They all groaned when Freddie immediately played the word ‘meow’.

“You can't just play only cat-themed words,” Roger protested.

“I must have missed that in the instruction manual.” Freddie replied coolly, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Brian decided to jump in before either of them could try to kill each other. “I think the game is over.”

Freddie whipped his head around. “What, you too? Since when do you not like cats? If it were one of your precious _badgers_ you wouldn't-”

“We're out of tiles, Fred.”

Freddie looked at the board. “Oh.”

John laughed. “Once again, Brian wins.” 

Brian smiled. “You were a very close second, Deaky. Can't quite say the same for the other two.” 

Freddie wouldn't stop scowling. “It's rigged.” 

“Don't feel bad,” Roger said, almost innocently. Almost. “Fourth place is still good.” 

Freddie threw a pillow at him, and all hell broke loose. The pillow fight lasted at least ten minutes, and it was brutal. Brian and John initially tried to stop them, but quickly realized it was no use and simply shrugged at each other and joined in, not even trying to be careful or quiet. There are no teams and no rules. It was every man for himself. Brian didn't even warn them to watch the lamp like he normally would. Eventually they all wore themselves out and flopped back onto Freddie’s bed, laughing. 

Freddie sighed happily. “Let's pick another game!” 

“We don't have any others, do we?”

“Not a board game, Bri, a proper sleepover game! Come on, it'll be fun. Never have I ever or truth or dare or something. Or strip poker.”

“I’m pretty sure you need poker for that.”

“Strip truth or dare then!”

Brian laughed. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“Whatever it is, you can count me out.” John said. Brian nodded in agreement. 

Roger pouted. “Spoilsports.”

“Come on, guys, you know you want to!” Freddie whined.

“At the moment, I can think of very few things I want less, actually.”

John laughed and Freddie scowled at Brian. “What do we do, then?”

Roger patted him on the back. “Look at you. One night and you've already got cabin fever.” Freddie glared at him murderously.

John reached out and rubbed his shoulder. “We can hang out. Talk. Watch telly. Write some songs.” Freddie seemed satisfied by that and he relaxed.

Roger seemed to be in a particularly fiery mood, and shot John a mischievous grin. “Maybe Deaky can write another song about premature ejaculation.”

John didn't even turn around. “Say what you like, but I've never had sex with a car.”

Roger, surprisingly, only laughed. 

“Or,” Freddie started, voice turning serious, “We could have a little intervention with Brimi here and figure out what the hell his problem is.”

Brian blinked. “What?”

“Remember I told you we needed to have a discussion when you felt better?”

Brian’s anxiety spiked and Roger scooted closer to him protectively. “Fred, do we really-”

“It’s alright, Rog.” Brian cut him off and nodded at Freddie to continue. 

Freddie hummed. “You don’t think you’re worthy of love and care.”

Brian’s eyes widened. “Um-”

“It’s not a question, Brian. I already know it. The real question is why, and what can we do about it?”

Brian was completely speechless. 

Roger frowned. “He thinks he’s replaceable, too.”

John whipped around. “What?”

Brian tensed. “Roger!”

“Come on, Brian! We have to talk about this eventually. I can’t have you thinking we could just fuck off and hire some other guitarist without ruining this band!”

Brian just stared, once again at a loss for what to say. Freddie sighed. “Dear, do you really think we would lie to you about how we feel?”

“No! Of course not; I would never want to imply that. It’s just… I wonder if you might be too nice.” Brian admitted.

John looked deep in thought. “Alright Brian, listen up.” The other three turned to look at him. “Your guitar solos are too long. Those clogs do nothing for you, and sometimes your perfectionism and nitpicking in the studio make me want to sneak into your apartment in the middle of the night and shave every last curl off your giant, know-it-all head.”

Roger glared daggers at him. “John, why the fuck-”

“Let me finish, Rog. Brian, I’m not too nice, ok? I’ll tell you anything, and if I have a problem I tell you. That’s not even the first time I’ve told you those things. My point is, evidence would suggest you should believe what I say, yes?”

Brian started to smile a little bit when he realized what John was getting at. He nodded.

“Good. You’re a brilliant musician and songwriter and a brilliant person. You’re my favorite guitarist and one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and you’re exactly as valuable to the band as any of us are. Besides, if I didn’t love you and Roger so much, do you really think I would have tolerated all of your pining bullshit for this long?”

Brian’s mouth parted slightly in shock. “Deaky-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Bri. I know how you feel about me. I just needed you to hear it.”

Brian took a breath. “Could I at least give you a hug?”

John laughed. “Yes, I’ll allow that.”

Brian threw his arms around him. “We love you too.”

“What’s not to love?”

Brian laughed and pulled back, looking into his eyes and trying to use his face to convey all the words John wouldn’t let him say. “Thank you.”

John nodded and smiled. 

“Also, my guitar solos are the perfect length.”

“Oh piss off.”

Brian smiled shyly. He was uncomfortable with all the attention, even though he was extremely grateful for what they were doing.

Freddie suddenly lit up. “Ooh! I have something that’ll boost your ego.”

Brian groaned. “Please don’t...”

Freddie paid no attention. “The first time I met Roger, he wouldn’t stop going on about his best friend Brian and how excited he was for me to meet him. I asked what you looked like, and Roger said-”

“Freddie!” Roger jumped in, looking mortified.

“Hush, Liz. I asked what you looked like, and he said, I believe in these words exactly, ‘He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen’.”

Roger buried his face in his hands as he and Brian turned identical shades of red.

John grinned at their twin expressions of pure embarrassment. “Well, Fred? Was he?”

“No need to be jealous, darling, I hadn’t met you yet.”

John blushed and hit him on the arm. “He’s not your type, anyway. Too feminine looking.”

“That’s true. And to think, Brian’s type has been blondes all the time.”

“I’m not sure I have a type,” Brian said, and without thinking, added, “I think my type is just Roger.”

Roger finally took his hands off his face. “Really?”

Brian reddened even more. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound so… intense.”

“Fred, Deak, look away for a sec,” Roger said, barely giving them time to react before leaning toward Brian and kissing him deeply.

“Dear god.” John groaned. “Fred, let’s get out of here.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that!”

_“Freddie!”_


End file.
